


Where We Belong

by lovesrogue36



Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies), Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-15
Updated: 2012-08-15
Packaged: 2017-11-12 04:50:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovesrogue36/pseuds/lovesrogue36
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Susan and Caspian meet again under circumstances they don't understand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own The Chronicles of Narnia nor am I associated with the C.S. Lewis estate. No copyright infringement intended.

Susan lifted her skirts to her knees as she stepped between the cots that lined the courtyard, the dying raising their hands to her. She touched as many of them as possible, knowing they felt that the Daughter of Eve could help and heal them. Lucy nodded to her in silent acknowledgement as she stood from a man with particularly gruesome injuries. Susan knew her sister could handle the remaining patients and turned gratefully from the chaotic courtyard in search of a soft bed and a few hours of sleep.

 

She skipped on one foot and then the other as she pulled her shoes off, shivering at the contact with the cold cobblestone floors before bringing a hand up to pull the comb from her hair. Holding her shoes in one hand, she shook the dark locks out with the other so they hung in limp curls down her back.

 

“Off to get some sleep, my lady?” a voice called after her from the shadows of the dark hallway. Susan startled, her scuffed boots clattering to the stone floor as she spun around, nerves still on edge after the hours of fighting and bloodshed.

 

She released a sigh of relief at the sight of Caspian shuffling towards her, the gratitude and guilt of having survived weighing heavy on his shoulders. The corners of her mouth tipped up in a sympathetic smile as she noticed he was favoring his side. “Are you all right? You look like you ought to be sleeping yourself,” she murmured, reaching out a hand to touch his shoulder.

 

He shrugged, brushing her off. “I’m fine. If you want to worry, worry about your brother. He took quite a beating.”

 

“Peter’ll be fine, trust me. He’ll be up tossing that sword around in no time. So that just leaves you to worry about,” Susan retorted, concern creasing her brow.

 

“It’s nothing. I’m sore, that’s all,” Caspian replied, too quickly.

 

“We’ll see about that. Come on.” Susan collected her shoes from the ground, turned on her bare heel and disappeared around the corner, leaving Caspian no choice but to follow.

 

He straggled after her, his side aching more than he cared to admit. By the time he reached her chambers, she had already abandoned her shoes and hair comb onto the window seat.

 

Caspian leaned against the doorframe to Susan’s room, not sure he should enter. “You’re hurt and Lucy’s busy,” she insisted gently, motioning him in. He eyed her reluctantly but entered the room, propping the door open slightly with his foot.

 

“Armor off.” She waved a hand at the cumbersome Telmarine armor as she pulled the various leather straps of her quiver over her head and laid them on the dresser. She glanced in the mirror and winced at the sight of her battle-torn figure. Pressing a hand to her forehead, she watched Caspian’s reflection slowly take off the heavy metal battle outfit.

 

As he pulled the doubled chainmail off and set it on the floor beside the rest of the armor, she turned to face him. “Shirt, too.” At his startled look she repeated, a bit more pointedly, “You’re _hurt_ ; Lucy’s busy. The hours following a battle are no time for modesty, Caspian.”

 

He awkwardly cleared his throat but stripped the black garment off and tossed it to the floor with the rest of his clothes. Susan bit her lip at the bruised and bloody skin, dipping a cloth into the basin beside the bed. She rang it out, the dripping water and their breathing the only sounds in the room. Turning, she motioned for him to lie back on the bed and he settled in against the pillows, a grimace crossing his features. Susan gently pressed the damp cloth to his wound, knowing it felt none too pleasant by the way his fingers gripped her arm.

 

She cleaned the wound as best she could, the aftermath of the battle setting in. She always felt like this after a fight: worn, melancholy and lonely. Somehow it seemed different this time though and she wasn’t entirely sure it was just her fear of losing Narnia again. Caspian pushed himself up so she could wrap the bandage around his chest and she unrolled the white fabric with a flick of her wrist. She leaned forward, her arms circling him to wrap the bandage, but found she had been unprepared for the feel of him against her. A shudder ran through her and she dipped her head to keep from looking him in the eye.

 

Her dark curls fell across his cheek as she brushed his bare chest, tying the bandage off. Caspian brought one hand up to her face, tucking a lock of dark brown hair behind her ear, the other settling with uncharacteristic boldness onto her waist. She raised her eyes to meet his, a reluctant glance that seared across his mind and he leaned in slightly, pausing for permission. She brought a hand up to his cheek, caressing the skin there as he closed the space between them. Her eyes drifted shut, lips parted in anticipation.

 

“Susan, Aslan wants to-” Peter’s voice cut through the room, shattering their moment. He knocked on the door as he spoke, pushing it in at the same time, but stopped at the sight of his sister and the prince. The former king’s eyes widened as he cleared his throat. “Aslan wants to see us, Susan.”

 

Susan’s hand dropped to the bed, the silk a poor substitute for Caspian. She sighed slightly, her eyes falling from his. “I’ll be right there,” she murmured to Peter who hurried from the room, kicking the door all the way open as he went. Susan pressed her lips together at the implication; that she shouldn’t even be here, like this, with the future king of Narnia. As dreadful as it sounded, neither of them had a right to fall in love with the other.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

_Susan stormed into her chamber, slamming the door behind her with a satisfying bang and shoving a chair beneath the handle, determined to keep Peter out._

_“Susan, come on. We need to be brave about this. For-” Despite her best efforts to avoid him, she couldn’t stop his voice from filtering through the thick door._

_“For what, Peter? For Lucy? For Edmund? For_ Narnia? _No, Peter!” she shouted back._

_“Susan, you’re being unreasonable. You know Aslan has a reason for everything. I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation.” Using logic against her had long been a tactic of her brother’s but it wouldn’t serve him this time, not when she was heartbroken._

_“I just need some time. Leave me alone, Peter!” Turning with a frustrated sigh, she tripped over Caspian’s armor, still lying on her floor. She grumbled, kicking the offending metal to the side as she turned to her mirror. She fumbled for the leather strips on her bodice, undoing the laces with a fury._

_“Susan? What’s happened? What’s going on?” Susan let out a startled cry, not having realized Caspian still lay sprawled on her bed, his hands folded over his bare chest._

_She pressed a hand to her breast, sagging with relief even as she fought back tears in earnest. “Caspian! I’m so sorry, you shouldn’t have heard any of that.”_

_“Susan, what are you doing here? How did you get here?” he demanded, dragging himself off the bed._

_“What do you mean how did I get here? I walked down the hallway and through the door,” she huffed, her anger with Peter just beginning to subside and give way to the all-consuming hurt she knew was coming._

_“But you left! Aslan sent you away. He said you’d never return,” Caspian stumbled over his words. “Susan, you do remember leaving, don’t you?”_

_She blinked at him, processing the fact that she did indeed remember returning to England but her argument with Peter seemed so fresh and raw in her mind. “I-I do. But this is before we returned home; I remember having that argument with Peter. Except you weren’t here and… I threw the chair at him instead of putting it under the door.”_

_“I must be dreaming,” Caspian muttered, gripping the bedpost with one hand and gingerly rubbing the bright white bandage with the other._

_“Look around! This is right after the battle. Don’t you remember? Lucy was busy so I bandaged you and-” She cut off, a blush creeping over her cheeks as the rest of the encounter came flooding back to her._

_“But that doesn’t make sense. You’ve been gone for almost six months,” Caspian pointed out._

_“When has time ever made sense in Narnia?” Susan retorted. Mindlessly, she tugged at the partially undone laces on her leather bodice, thinking. “But it doesn’t explain how I got here. Perhaps I am dreaming.”_

_“Or perhaps not. Maybe we’re not supposed to understand. Maybe this is Aslan giving us a chance.” An optimistic look flashed in his chocolate brown eyes._

_Susan shook her head. “There is no_ us _, Caspian. I told you it would never work. Aslan certainly knows that better than I.”_

_“He’s surprised you in the past, though. Maybe this time you’re wrong,” he murmured, resting a hand on her shoulder._

“Susan! Susan, wake up!” Peter stage-whispered to his sister, shaking her. She jolted awake, sitting straight up with a shout that he quickly muffled with his hand.

 

“For heaven’s sake, Susan, you’ll wake the whole neighborhood!” he admonished her, checking to be sure she was fully awake before removing his hand.

 

“What? What’s going on?” she asked breathlessly, confused as she glanced around at her bedroom in Finchley.

 

“You were talking in your sleep. I could hear you through the wall,” Peter explained, sitting on the edge of her bed. His voice lowered, eyes dropping to his hands as he admitted, “You were calling his name.”

 

“His- Oh.” Susan sighed, eyes squeezing shut over the hot sting of unshed tears. She ran a hand over her face, feeling her cheeks grow warm.

 

“You’ve got to get over this, Susan. I know it seems callous of me to say this, but you’re never going to see him again. It won’t do you any good to dwell on him,” Peter advised harshly, earning a sharp glance from his sister.

 

“Don’t you give me that!” she exclaimed in a low voice, glancing to the door. “I am not dwelling on him. It’s not as though I dream about him consciously. He’s just so real and it’s like I’m there again. Haven’t you ever dreamt about Narnia?”

 

Peter ran his fingers through sandy hair, neatly dodging the question“You have to keep that life in your dreams, Susan. We’re not kings and queens anymore. We have to stop living this fantasy life.”

 

He pushed himself up from the bed and carefully opened the door so as to keep it from squeaking before tossing a glance over his shoulder at his sister. “For the record, Edmund tells me I’ve been settling land disputes in my sleep so you’re not alone.”

 

Somehow it didn’t ease her pain any.


	3. Chapter 3

Susan felt her eyes growing heavy as she listened to her companion drone on about a newsreel he’d seen the night before. To be honest, she couldn’t even remember his name. The train rumbled past and she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up, remembering the last time she had sat in this spot. Narnia felt just within her reach yet so very far away. Caspian was just a dream and the kiss they had shared a whisper on the breeze. Her thoughts and spirit drifted away from the station, carrying her to a different place. A place without time.

 

Susan’s reflection stared back at her in the uneven Telmarine glass and she raised her eyes tentatively to meet his, the weight of his hand on her waist simultaneously reassuring and suggestive. Desire and affection softened his gaze, even as it stirred something inside her, her shallow breaths belying everything she felt without ceremony or reason. Susan was acutely aware of the loose, careless laces on her bodice, heart pounding in her chest as she gripped the carved wood of her dresser.

_Caspian brushed thick, brunette curls from her neck, never losing eye contact with her reflection. “He’s giving us a chance, Susan. Please, don’t waste our time together. Please believe.” His voice washed over her, jaded and sweet, lips brushing the shell of her ear. A shiver ran through her at the light touch of his fingers on her skin._

_“I can’t. I can’t lose you again. I can’t, Caspian,” she murmured, unable to control the ragged quality of her words. She fought valiantly against the tears threatening her composure but as he bent to press a feather-light kiss to the gentle slope of her shoulder, she abandoned all efforts. Sliding two fingers beneath her chin, he turned her to him. Tears poured down her cheeks and they tasted the salt on her lips. Susan clutched him to her with one hand, the other still holding fast to her wooden grip on reality._

_His lips moved against hers, so familiar, wanted and desperately needed. She turned in his arms, relinquishing the dresser to lose herself in the feel of him. This time there was no one to interrupt them, no one to break them apart. Susan could stay here forever, sharing space and breath with him. Nothing could make her feel so whole as Caspian’s kiss. Nothing in this world or that…_

“Phyllis! Phyllis, time to go!” A high-pitched voice entered Susan’s dreams, waking her from somewhere she never wanted to leave. Her mind grasped at disappearing images, feelings and emotions, always just beyond reach. Her eyes fluttered open and settled on the source of her irritation.

 

She grimaced, this freckle-faced boy no competition for Caspian. She nodded, gathering her things and wondering at how unoffended he seemed that she had fallen asleep. Susan rubbed her lips with her fingertips, the taste of a faraway lover fresh on them. That same something stirred within her, her heart breaking that she could taste him but could barely remember his face.

 


	4. Chapter 4

The arrow flew from her bow, landing with a dull thud in the red of the target. Two more followed in quick pursuit, clustering together in an impressive array of introverted distress. These dreams, lovely as they were, were only serving to bring her greater loneliness. She couldn’t close her eyes without seeing him and every little thing brought him to mind. Susan wondered if he felt the same way or if he had already moved on. She imagined with a heavy heart that by now he was as much a myth in Narnia as she was. She loosed her final arrow and watched it fly with certain determination toward its resting place. Envy filled her at its guided path, not knowing where to turn herself.

 

“Oh, Caspian,” she whispered to no one in particular, grateful for the empty practice range. She struggled to picture him in her mind’s eye, tears welling up that she could only see a dim outline of him. Even as he faded in her memories, his touch and his kiss were more vivid in her dreams than they had ever been. The passage of time was taking him away from her but her own subconscious was holding on to him for dear life. Susan let her arm and her bow fall to her side, staring into space with a blank expression. Her thoughts tumbled over themselves, filled with him.

 

As a few people wandered onto the range to take a few shots at the target, she slowly made her way to a nearby bench. No longer did she enjoy showing off her archery skills. Looks drawn from admiring passersby only irritated her. The only admiration she sought was from the dark eyes of one she could never see.

 

His lips were on hers again, fierce and tender, not wasting a moment of their brief time together. Without thinking she wound her arms around his neck, pressing every inch of her against him. She was quickly learning that these sleepless dreams never lasted long. Perhaps it was because she was not supposed to return nor were they supposed to be together.

_As if sensing her thoughts, Caspian pulled away slightly, his hands on her waist. “Susan, don’t think. Just feel.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her jaw, drawing a repressed shudder from her lips. “They’re not just dreams. Why can’t you believe in me?”_

_“I do,” she whispered, her voice husky with passion and sweetly forbidden desire. She brought one hand down from his broad shoulder to his own and guided it up to the laces on her bodice._

_He stared at her, unsure this was what she really wanted. “Caspian.” His name was barely off her tongue before he slid his fingers beneath the loosened ties. He pulled slowly at them, feeling the weight of little time but wanting to savor this moment. Susan’s hand slid back up his arm to run over the bright white stripe across his chest that served to remind them of the battles they had already fought to get here. Doubtless, there were more to come but in this place, this timeless place, past and future hardly mattered._

_With a final tug, the leather strip slid from Caspian’s fingers, falling to the floor. Susan’s bodice fell with a dull sound they hardly noticed, absorbed as they were in each other’s eyes. He slipped the fine chain mail from her shoulders and pulled her to him in a warm kiss as though he could no longer bear the separation from her lips. The prince drank his fill from her, tasting the fear and sorrow and longing that covered her. His hand inched from her waist to her thigh and eased the slit in her dress back, exposing the creamy skin. She curled her leg around his as he led her instinctively across the room. Scooping her up in his arms, he settled her on the bed and hoisted himself up beside her. A small smile graced her lips as he held himself over her, searching her eyes for something only his soul would know. She cupped his cheek in one hand, reveling in the unshaved skin beneath her fingers. He covered her contented moan with his mouth, collapsing willfully over her._

The whizz of an arrow sliced Susan from her dream reality. Her eyes opened to a world as foreign as Narnia had been to her as a child. Why could she only visit him, feel him, in her sleep? She wondered idly if he was right. If they weren’t just dreams. If he were somewhere in Narnia, waking to a world without her and rubbing a hand across his equally bruised lips. How could she feel his kiss so wholly if he had not been there a moment before?

 

The other Pevensies were suddenly crowded around her, distracting her from the yearning pooling in her stomach. Peter glanced warily at her, knowing what she must have been dreaming about by the flush on her cheeks, but the younger siblings chattered on, oblivious to the grown-up emotions of their sister. She felt terrible wanting to be with him over them when they had all been inseparable for nigh on thirty years. They had ruled together but he ruled her heart.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Susan lay wide awake in Caspian’s arms, stroking the bandage across his chest with her thumb. She listened intently to his rhythmic breathing, wondering at how peacefully he slept while she was in such turmoil. Her heart raced, desperately wishing for more time even before she was gone, wishing her life away. A single tear escaped her inner battle, sliding dismally down her cheek.

_Caspian shifted, tightening his hold on her. She rested her head against his chest, her tears soaking into the bloodied bandage pressing roughly into her cheek. His fingers ran through her hair as if by habit, though they had lain here not more than an hour. Susan draped a leg over Caspian’s as she twisted to look up at him. His eyes opened a slit to meet hers and she smiled through her agony._

_He brushed a few stray hairs from her temple with a finger. As he shifted slightly away, she missed even that little warmth. “Don’t cry, my love,” he murmured softly, so softly. The tenderly contained weep in his voice only brought on more tears, but her lips remained tipped up in a smile._

_“My love,” she echoed in a whisper, using the pillow to push herself over him. Her loose waves fell across his face, a tilted mirror image of their first romantic tryst, right here, in this very room. Susan lowered herself across him, mindful of his wound, pressing her lips to his. His hands settled on her waist beneath the sheets, his fingers in the slight crevasse in the center of her back._

_They moved in sync as Caspian rolled her beneath him and her arms slid naturally around his neck. A sort of relaxed contentment hovered around them, lightening the air that tingled on their bare skin. Without warning, she wasn’t worried. She still cried and she still dreaded the fast-approaching return, but she no longer worried. Not here, secure in Caspian’s tight embrace, savoring his slow, but hardly methodical, kiss. The room began to blend with itself, a colorful combination of down covers and unmatched pleasures. She knew she was leaving, but she knew she would be back. For now she believed. She believed he was really here, holding her close, his lips moving over hers._

“Miss Pevensie!” A shrill voice cut through the hazy blend of lovemaking and Susan sat bolt upright. Glancing around, she felt her body grow warm with embarrassment, inwardly blaming it on Caspian’s touch. Her classmates stared with genuine fear at the front of the room, too frightened even to snicker in her direction.

 

“Miss Pevensie. Is there something more important in your dreams than in the lessons of trigonometry?” The mathematics teacher stalked between rigidly straight rows of desks toward her.

 

Susan stared at the gray-haired woman, who hadn’t seen the admiring glance of a man in thirty years at the least, feeling a delightfully rebellious smirk spreading across her face. She had always been the proper one, reserved and uptight. Even in Narnia she had been the practical one. When Peter was putting his life on the line in needless duels for the sake of his pride, when Edmund was sulking in the highest tower of Cair Paravel, when Lucy was frolicking between dancing trees, Susan had been the one to greet the dignitaries, curtsying for the kings and dancing with the princes. Now she had her chance at frivolity and reckless abandon and she would take it to be sure.

 

Slowly, she stood from her seat, drawing morbidly curious looks from the schoolgirls. Pride filled her as she thought of the title ‘queen’ before her name. Courage filled her as she thought of the things she had seen and things she had fought, so much more terrifying than this aging schoolmarm, only bent and angry because she had no one to call her ‘my love.’

 

“As a matter of fact-” Someone burst through the door before Susan could finish her thought. She glanced over, irritation shooting in her gaze, but stopped stock still at Edmund’s face. He communicated worlds of silent fear to her with one sharp look, his eyes the dark they only turned when Peter was in trouble.

 

Though she knew it was probably only another fight that had left her brother battered, bruised and beaten, despite his talent with a fist or sword, she dropped everything. It had been many years since she had seen Edmund this pale and drawn. Filled with the pride and courage of Narnia, and the love of her King, she swept wordlessly past the shocked teacher, grateful for the familiar swish of skirts she left in her wake.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Susan dabbed at the bloody mark across her brother’s forehead with a wet cloth. Peter winced, more from the thought of his horrible day than the pain, and managed to look vaguely contrite.

 

“I really am sorry, Susan. I just lost my head, you know? He kept pushing and pushing and before I knew what I was doing, I had my lance at his throat,” Peter apologized in his own way.

 

The eldest Pevensie sister raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t explain the blood all over the gym floor, now does it?”

 

Peter glanced away to the dirty carpet beneath them, shuffling his feet back and forth. “Yes, well, he didn’t take too well to my threatening his life. You know, there was a time when my swordsmanship garnered _respect_ of the very highest caliber-”

 

Susan held up a finger, stopping him with a mere look. “I almost told my mathematics teacher off today and ordered she bow down to her Queen, so don’t even go there.”

 

Peter smirked, having already heard about the incident from around campus. Susan pushed herself up from her seat, ringing the now-crimson towel out in the sink. “This had better not become routine, Peter. You can’t demand I let go of love when you can’t even let go of your pride.”

 

Months passed, Susan fought to remain cheerful and optimistic, Peter beat everyone in his fencing class and, finally, summer arrived. Lucy and Edmund were shipped off to their cousin’s house, much to everyone’s dismay, but the trip proved more pivotal than any of them could have imagined.

 

Lucy and Edmund had tumbled into the house that afternoon, smiles reaching for the stars and hugs for everyone. They had shared stories of summer, expressed regret that school was just around the corner and eaten more than their fill of scones over tea they hardly touched.

 

That night, however, the mood turned with the darkening sky. Susan lay awake, staring at the ceiling, her hands folded over her stomach. She hadn’t dreamt of Caspian or Narnia in almost two weeks and was sure Peter had noticed her slide into melancholy, though he hadn’t mentioned it. Hushed voices filtering through the wall caught her attention and she rolled over onto her side, listening. At first they were too muffled to make out, but soon she was wishing she hadn’t heard them at all.

 

“What are we going to do?” Edmund asked in despair.

 

“It’s going to kill her,” Lucy moaned. Susan’s brow knit, instinctively knowing they were talking about her.

 

“He’s marrying a star? Go figure. He just had to one up the Queen,” Peter put in, anger peeping around his sarcasm.

 

“No, he’s marrying a star’s daughter. She’s really only a princess, so he’s not doing any better.” This from a rather matter-of-fact Edmund.

 

“He can’t _do_ any better than our sister, Edmund!” Lucy’s rebuttal was accompanied by the soft smack of a pillow against her younger brother’s head. “What are we going to do, Peter?”

 

Susan sucked her breath in. Had Lucy and Edmund been to Narnia? Had they seen Caspian? Surely…

 

“We can’t tell her. Those dreams of hers are all that keep her going, I’m positive. Caspian’s the only thing she has left of Narnia. I’m afraid what might happen if she knows he’s not hers anymore,” Peter worried, the quietly wise words ripping her in two.

 

Caspian, married. Deep inside, she had always supposed this day would come; she just hadn’t expected to hear about it personally. No wonder she hadn’t dreamt of him in so long. He was busy holding someone else. She tried to feel happy for him, but thoughts of him wrapped around her held her back. Susan shook herself, wearily rubbing a hand across her face.

 

 _They were just dreams, Susan. For heaven’s sake. All in a tizzy over silly dreams. It’s not as though he were really there. They were just dreams._ He _was just a dream,_ she thought to herself, the chiding sentences ringing false tones in her head.

 

She convinced herself she never believed.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**12 Years Later**

**1954**

 

Susan Pevensie stood on the street corner, glancing anxiously from one side to the other and only pausing to examine her watch every few seconds. Any passersby could tell she was in a frantic hurry. She shifted her bag from one arm to the other as she waited with impatient irritation for the pedestrian light to change. For the first time since she had stood there she looked past the sign, focusing briefly on the familiar statue behind it and finally to the tube depot beyond.

 

It was rare that Susan should stop for even just a moment to gaze at the bustling world around her. She was usually too caught up in her job, and what few friends she had left, to pause. Five years ago she would have rolled her eyes and laughed falsely from the center of a group of suitors whose names she couldn’t recall. Five years ago today, however, her life had changed. There was no one to notice that it, or she, had changed, but it had. Five years ago today, she lost it all.

 

Peter. The eldest. The fiercest. The most passionate. He, above them all, was protector and guardian. He loved them with every fiber of his being and would raise his sword against anyone to keep them safe. Yet so many times, his pride held him back. He was booted out of every fencing club in New York for his temper and never bit his tongue when he ought to. Her brother didn’t deserve to die.

 

Edmund. The quiet one. The shy one. The boy who would do anything to keep his family from repeating his mistakes. He would stand by them through thick and thin, no matter the consequences. He backed them up whether they asked for it or not. Everyone has weaknesses, though, and Edmund’s was making up for his past. He went too far so many times; threw himself too close to the edge. Her brother didn’t deserve to die.

 

Lucy. The youngest. The most faithful. The one who clung to the truth when no one else seemed to care. She was the glue that held them together. When they fought, she brought them back to center. When they cried, she dried their tears. She was far too mature for her age; more mature in so many ways than all of them. She wasn’t perfect either, however. She followed her faith and her instinct without thought of self or preservation. She trusted too much, too soon. Her sister didn’t deserve to die.

 

Mum. Dad. Polly and Digory. None of them deserved to die. Susan supposed she had survivor’s guilt in a way. Off to America, surrounded by parties and friends, while her family watched their lives flash before their eyes. The only remaining Pevensie swiped angrily at unbidden tears, wondering what in heaven’s name was taking so long for the light to change. She glanced through the haze of memory to the statue she had always been drawn to. Never had she known what made that lion so great. But, still, after all these years, she came to this spot to mourn. It wasn’t where they’d died. It wasn’t where they’d lived. It wasn’t where anything in particular had ever happened to them. Something drew her to this place, though. Something… magical.

 

 _Come home, Susan._ Her blue eyes widened in joyful horror at the deep, baritone voice. She stared in awe, unable even to blink, as the majestic, stone lion turned his head toward her, shaking his mane.

 

 _Come home, Susan._ Again, the words, but a different voice, a different tone. A man stepped from behind the lion, his hand on its paw. He smiled at her from across the street, beckoning her. Long-repressed emotions filled her heart and head at that smile. Tears blurred everything from her sight except the two of them. The two that could bring back this spark of life, this spark of _love_ in her.

 

Susan found herself moving, running, toward them; heard her calling to them as she went. “Caspian!” The name echoed in her head as her purse flew from her grasp. The lion became a statue again and the man disappeared. She blinked once, slowly, and they flashed back for a brief second before all went dark. She felt herself throw out an arm against the impact, felt herself collide with asphalt. As her hair bounced across her face and blood striped through her blouse, she rejoiced for the first time and mourned for the last.

 

\---

 

“Bystanders say she called a name before she ran out in front of the bus. Casper, Caspian. Something like that. Do you know what she may have seen?” The insurance agent inquired politely of Susan’s boss.

 

The short, little jeweler shook his head methodically, his toupee sweeping from one side to the other. “I’m just her boss. As far as I know, she has no family, no boyfriend. Nobody. You could try talking to the gal that works her shift with her. Tracy Beckingham. Susan’s a nice gal. Quiet but a real nice gal. I hope she’s gonna be okay.”

 

\---

 

“Bystanders say she called a name before she ran out in front of the bus. Casper, Caspian. Something like that. Do you know what she may have seen?” There was no way insurance was going to cover this poor woman’s insanity but it might get her to the closest sanitarium.

 

Tracy dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “No, no. Susan doesn’t have a boyfriend or anything.” She sniffled into the pressed white cloth before blowing her nose rather loudly.

 

“Are you sure she’s never mentioned anyone by that name?” He knew sometimes these hysterical women remembered things at the last minute.

 

“Oh, wait. There was this one time.” The insurance agent subtly rolled his eyes before pulling out a pen and his notebook. “She showed up at my apartment, it must have been three, four o’ clock in the morning, and I knew she had to have been drinking. She had that glazy look, you know? Anyway, she kept going on and on about this guy named Caspian. Rambling on about how could he do this to her and how could he leave her. She kept talking about her brothers and sister too. They died in a train crash five years ago, you know?”

 

\---

 

No one was there to press their nose to the glass, to hold her hand as she slept or to fall asleep in the uncomfortable chair beside the bed. No one was there to wake her with their begging or their crying. No one was there because no one was left.

 


	8. Chapter 8

_“Hello, Queen of Narnia.” A deep voice resonated throughout Susan’s hospital room. Slowly, she blinked open her eyes, unsurprised to find Aslan standing at the end of her bed._

_“Hello, Aslan,” she croaked, her voice barely above a whisper. The bright lights became too much for her and she found her eyes closing of their own volition. Yet Aslan’s image remained in her sight, burned across the backs of her eyelids. “I guess I have a lot of explaining to do, huh?”_

_She felt the imaginary softness of his mane on her palm though he remained on the other side of the room. “No, child. Not at all. But you must understand why this has happened.”_

_“Why what has happened? Why Peter and Edmund and Lucy had to die? Or why I was hit by a bus? Is there some sort of curse over the House of Narnia?” Susan seemed to grow stronger with her anger and she sat up against the pillows behind her head._

_“You must know that your family is waiting for you to understand what is to happen next, Susan. Only you can make it happen, but if it is what you wish, it_ will _happen,” Aslan replied, cryptic as ever._

_Susan sighed. “Fine. What do I have to understand?”_

_“When you buried your brothers and sister, you laid their bodies to rest but not their souls. Their souls continued on to wherever they belonged. For them, that was Narnia. For your parents, that was England. For you, it could be either. You must decide where you wish to return.” The lion’s voice soothed Susan’s agitated nerves, relaxing her despite the pain that seeped through her entire body._

_“Narnia, of course. I never belonged in England,” was her immediate reply._

_Aslan shook his head. “Are you sure? You have forgotten Narnia for many years, Susan. Is that where you belong?”_

_“I never forgot, Aslan. I only wished I had.”_

_He studied her downcast eyes and drawn features for what felt like an eternity. “All right, Susan. You shall again be Queen of Narnia.” Blissful darkness crept into the room, covering Susan in a blanket of peaceful sleep._

 

The throne room doors burst open, almost in a fit of rage themselves, as Peter and Caspian stormed into the room. “What _word_ did you want with me, _High King_ Peter?” Caspian demanded snidely.

 

“Do you know why Susan isn’t here, Caspian?” Peter waited for the doors to swing shut to reply.

 

“Yes, of course. She wasn’t on the train. Hence, she’s still alive,” Caspian pointed out with a disgruntled air.

 

“No, no, no. I mean, do you know why she won’t be here? Why she can’t be here? Why I’m never going to see my sister again?” The Son of Adam’s voice grew in volume until he was shouting at his friend.

 

“Can’t- Never going- Peter! What are you talking about?” Confusion crossed Caspian’s face.

 

“It’s because of you. I’ll bet you don’t even know it, either, do you?” Peter folded his arms over his chest defiantly, feet spread wide apart on the cold cobblestones.

 

“Because of _me?_ What did I do _now?”_ Over the past few days since the Pevensies had arrived in Aslan’s country, Caspian had discovered that his old friend held some sort of grudge against him. He was glad to finally have it all out between them, even if the interim would be bloody. If they were to spend eternity in the same castle, they might as well work out their differences.

 

“Might I meet the wife, Caspian? Or would that be awkward, my being your true love’s brother and all?”

 

“The wife- For Aslan’s sake. Is _that_ what this is about? Peter, she was my queen. She gave me a son. She was even my wife, but I never loved her. Not the way I loved Susan. Never the way I love Susan!” Caspian cried.

 

Peter sneered. “So you just kept her around to bear you an heir, huh? How very Telmarine of you.”

 

“Now you listen here, you meddling little prat, don’t you lecture me on love! I-” Caspian lunged at Peter, grabbing him by the collar.

 

“You broke my sister’s heart, you bloody-” Peter ripped from his grasp, pulling a fist away, ready to deliver a solid punch.

 

“Don’t deal so harshly with him, Peter. After a few thousand years, you can let these things go, you know.” A feminine voice cut through the boyish racket that echoed off the vaulted ceiling.

 

“Stay out of this, Susan!” Peter released his poised punch, landing it square on Caspian’s jaw and knocking him to the ground. “Susan!” He spun around, letting go of Caspian so he fell in an unceremonious heap.

 

Susan stood in the doorway, one hand on the familiar wood. Her dress hung in graceful folds and the sunlight streaming through a nearby window caught the gold of her crown and the joy of her smile. “Hello Peter.”

 

Peter stared for a moment before dashing across the room to sweep his sister in a crushing hug. He lifted her from the ground, spinning in circles that took them back to their childhoods. “My god, I thought I’d never see you again,” he whispered, “How can you be here? Aslan said because you didn’t believe-”

 

She shook her head, curls swaying back and forth. “I just didn’t want to believe,” she murmured, shame in her eyes.

 

“Susan? Susan, is it really you?” Caspian called from the floor.

 

Susan pushed away from her brother, turning to glance down at the cobblestones. “Yes, it’s really me. In the flesh – for lack of a better term.”

 

Caspian was on his feet in a second, yanking her away from Peter and into his own arms. He buried his face in her hair, taking in the sweet scent he had missed all those years. Her arms naturally slid around his back, as though they belonged there. Something Aslan had said to her in the hospital crossed her mind, but she shoved it aside, needing a question answered first.

 

She disentangled herself from him, warily glancing up to meet his smoldering eyes. “What about your wife, Caspian?” she asked with a sort of expectant disappointment.

 

“She’s where she belongs.” At Peter and Susan’s mutually raised eyebrows, he pointed up. “She’s in the skies, with her father.”

 

It took a moment for what he was saying to sink in, but when it did, a wide smile spread itself upon Susan’s lips. She curled one hand at the back of Caspian’s neck, pulling him down to meet her kiss. His arms circled her waist, reveling in the never-forgotten sensation of her touch. Peter quietly slipped from the room, leaving them in peace, though he was sure they never heard him go. Finally, they were where they belonged.

 

 


End file.
